Behind Him
by ExplosionMare
Summary: Granite Rose has never truly been alone, not with the constant voice in his head. Luckily, he can be alone, for a price. His life.
1. Inner Wounds

Granite Rose sighed as he looked down at the empty bottle of pills on his nightstand. It had only been a week and he had already run out of his medication. He was only supposed to take them when he needed them, which was usually once a week. Lately it had been every day.

He believed the episodes he was having would subside once he became independent. Nonetheless, the anxiety, urgency, and intensity of each schizophrenic episode had grown stronger the moment he moved out of his parents' place, as if it were trying to fill the absence.

He glanced fixedly at his hallucination, Thorns, hoping he could make eye contact with the figure who stood behind him. Granite tried to be firm with his gaze, but the hollow stare in Thorns' glowing eyes followed by small streams of black tears made him difficult to look at. What was worse, he looked almost identical to Granite. It was as if he had chosen to look similar to mock him, although Granite knew that wasn't the case.

"Please,Thorns, just leave me alone! Just because I'm alone here doesn't mean I need you keeping me company," Granite said, a hint of sadness accompanying his voice. He knew talking to Thorns was only as good as talking to himself but if he couldn't reason with this part of himself, then he wasn't sure he would make it through the rest of the move.

He shook it off and begrudgingly focused on unpacking. He reasoned his mental episode was just a result of stress, something that unpacking, along with some medication, could easily fix. He moved over to his first set of boxes, starting with the bigger ones and moving onto the smaller ones. He arranged the boxes and began sorting them by what was inside, then he took everything out. He set each object aside carefully as if he were handling a foal or a small animal. He then began sorting through everything to see which room it needed to go into. Deciding to start in the living room first, he sifted through his more decorative items and began to place them.

**_Get in the bathroom. Lock the door. Release your pain._**

Granite flattened his ears in annoyance. He couldn't have more than five minutes alone without that demeaning voice. Thorns always wanted the same thing everyday. Granite's blood. Though, due to being immobile, he relied on Granite to supply that blood himself. Granite wouldn't do that, though. He had better things to do than satisfy that vampire.

Granite finished with the last of the decorations and headed for the next room. Before he left the room, he eyed the display to see how it looked from afar. It was a rather simple setting. Pictures of flowers hung on the wall along with a few shelves holding clay vases. There was room for a table, but that would have to come in later once the other rooms were decorated. Satisfied with his work, Granite moved onto the rest of his little house.

* * *

**_Walk to the bathroom. Lie down. Let pain seep through._**

Granite was tired after a long day of unpacking, and had planned on sleeping soon after. Thorns was having none of that. This time, however, he pronounced his words as if he were speaking to a small child about to get a shot. The task would be quick if he complied. Granite was tempted to get up and complete the ritual, as long as completing it would mean he could get some rest afterwards. He stretched out of bed and sluggishly headed towards the bathroom.

_It won't be bad. It won't be like last ti-_

Granite froze, cursing himself for bringing up that time. He tried to forget it, but the memory continued to resurface...

* * *

The foal's ears flickered rapidly. He was sure he heard somepony. He trotted around his room, trying to get closer to the sound.

"Hello? Who said that?" the foal asked.

He whipped his head around, looking at every angle of his room for the voice. It wasn't like any voices he'd heard before. They usually sounded far away, which usually meant one of his parents was calling him. This voice was peculiar, as it sounded like it was right there in the room with him. Yet nopony was in sight.

The foal soon ignored the sound and continued his drawings. He wasn't drawing anything in particular, just whatever came to mind. His little mind raced as he filled up the page. Many colors and shapes filled the page like an elaborate display at a gallery. The foal continued to scribble as his little world begged to come to life. Ponies were scattered here and there amongst the black-and-white cats and the shining stars. A couple of red roofed houses took up the center while tiny birds and grasshoppers filled the corners. It was a complete mishmash of things, but the foal liked it.

Suddenly, his ears started to twitch again. He heard the voice once more. He was sure it was talking to him. He looked around some more, making sure to turn around this time to see if it was outside.

He saw nothing at the window. What he saw was right inside his room.

The foal gasped. A strange pony had broken into his house! The pony was just standing there, it's presence foreign yet...oddly familiar. He was similar in height to the foal and his black mane and grey coat were almost identical to his. The only difference was the penetrating white eyes leaking black fluids.

"Who are you?" the foal mumbled.

The stranger didn't reply. He didn't need to. He knew the foal knew the answer.

"Thorns?" the foal squeaked. The name just slipped out of his mouth. He wasn't sure what made him say it. Perhaps it had to do with the stranger's presence.

The stranger nodded. The foal was about to introduce himself, but he realized that was probably unnecessary. Curiously, he asked:

"Do you know who I am?"

Thorns nodded again. Though he didn't utter the name, the foal knew he was thinking "Granite Rose". Thorns had a connection to him. Granite was so fascinated he overlooked the macabre expression on the other pony's face. He had so many things to ask him. To see how much Thorns really knew would be a thrilling experience. Granite began to say something, but he was abruptly cut off.

_**Find a place to hide. Get a knife. Carve out your pain.**_

Granite jumped. Did he hear that right? It sounded like Thorns wanted to hurt him. He trusted Thorns, though. Surely he knew what he was saying.

* * *

Granite tiptoed around the kitchen. He wasn't sure his parents would like Thorns. He usually trusted his parents, but right now, he trusted Thorns more. He slowly reached up to the silverware drawer and grabbed a small knife that was only ever used by his parents during more formal meals. The knife in his hooves felt cold and heavy. Granite almost didn't feel right holding it. He wasn't sure why he was instructed to use it like this. Maybe something bad was inside of him.

He trotted out of the kitchen and into his room, slowly shutting the door as he went inside. He thought of propping himself on his bed, but he wasn't sure if Thorns would have room to sit. Granite decided to sit patiently on the floor instead.

"What am I supposed to do now?" he whispered nervously.

**_Stay here. Use the knife. Release your pain._**

He understood. Something was bad inside of him. What is was, he wasn't sure of, but it needed to come out. Pressing down hard, he sliced a large gash through his right arm. It stung at first, causing Granite to clench his teeth. The sting soon faded as streaks of red leaked out. Theoretically, it should have hurt, but so much came out that it was numbing.

Granite's body began to tremble and his eyes grew unfocused. Despite his fading vision, he was transfixed on his arm. He saw red, red, and more red, a stark contrast to his grey body. He couldn't look away from it. A couple of tears managed to escape from him as well. He had no idea why he was crying. Many emotions coursed throughout the foal, the most prominent being confusion. However, even the strongest of his emotions were beginning to fade from his mind-

"Fuchsia! Get an ambulance!" a male voice cried.

His father.

He saw. He saw _everything_.

* * *

Looking back, he couldn't remember much after that. It was all a blur to him. He could only remember certain things: His father's eyes darting around, his mother's horrified face, words uttered that no foal should be familiar with such as _suicide_ and _self-harm_. Those memories stuck with him for days, and they were all he had while he was put inside a mental hospital. The place were he was diagnosed with schizophrenia. The place where he was no longer considered normal.

Granite shuddered at those thoughts. They were very painful, but they reminded him to never go down that path again. If not for himself, then for his traumatized parents. Deciding to sleep on that thought, Granite ceased his thoughts for the day and slowly got under the covers, turned off his light, and rested his eyes.


	2. Unfriendly Reminder

Granite sat up in a daze, unsure of what to do as he woke up. He lay motionless in his bed, finding little motivation to move. He knew he would need to prepare his garden soon so he could begin his at-home floral business. Huffing, he tried to force himself up but found it difficult to lift his body.

The feeling of trepidation from the previous night plagued him still, leaving a numb feeling that coursed throughout his entire body. He felt like the unlucky flowers in the winter, brittle with frostbite. The cold pierced him as if icicles were impaling his body. Granite thought his body would succumb to permafrost and he would never be able to move again.

_**Get up. Lock yourself away. Let warmth spread on the outside.**_

Thorns' sudden speech sent Granite flying out of bed. He nearly hit the wall but was able to stop himself in time.

_Ha, ironic!_ Granite thought. He could move after all. Whatever he had felt previously must have been fear and nerves, he reasoned. Granite shook his legs around, shaking the numbness off as if he was shaking snow off his hide. Strength came back to his hooves and he was able to slowly get up, the floor creaking underneath him as he did.

He stared at the bathroom door as he walked towards it. He knew he would have to go in there for one reason or another. He hoped it wasn't for the wrong one.

_**Go in there. Lock the door. Stay until you see red.**_

Granite's lip began to tremble. He wanted to resist so badly, but his hooves were beckoning him towards the door. Quickly, before they could take off, he looked down at his right forehoof. He pushed back the fur on it gently. What remained of his scar from years ago was cloaked behind a thick layer of fur. It was nothing more than a thin, pink line, but its memory cut deeper than the scar itself. The longer Granite stared at it, the longer he realized he didn't have a reason to surrender to Thorns today.

He trotted towards the kitchen, grabbed a cup, and turned on the faucet. Once the cup was full, he went back to his room and grabbed the little orange bottle on his nightstand. He took a couple of small pink pills out and gulped them down with his cup of water.

_You aren't in charge of me today_ Granite thought as he walked towards the front door.

* * *

Granite went around the back of his house to set up his garden. He only gave himself time to shove everything away last night since starting the garden when the moon was out seemed like a waste of time. Now that the sun was out, he drew out his garden tools and his arrangement of potted plants. In order to be methodical, he arranged each tool by order of usage and each plant by flower type. To begin, he started with his shovel and the row of tulips.

Granite began to dig little holes around his yard, making sure each one was big enough to fit each flower but not so big that they brought up a lot of unnecessary dirt. He dug all around the house, arranging the holes into precise rows to flatter the house. Granite then patted each hole to smooth them out. If the flowers were going to go inside them, they ought to feel safe going in. Granite cared deeply for his plants and believed they noticed these little details.

Next, he dug each tulip from its pot and set them carefully into each hole. As he did, he patted each flower gently, stroking the petals as he did. Finally, he located his watering can and filled it up to the top. Thankfully, he did remember to install his hose. Once it was full, he slowly trotted over to the garden and watered each plant gingerly as to not oversaturate any of the flowers. He soon finished his first row and moved on to the next, continuing the process.

* * *

As the final drops of water seeped from the can, Granite lay the can down and looked up at the sun. Its position told him that the task had taken all afternoon. He was grateful for this because it left him just enough time to do the last thing he had on his agenda.

_Glad my friend Pencil Pouch lives in town still. I haven't seen her since I planned the move. Maybe I can visit her today_ he wondered.

Granite wiped the sweat from his forehead and prepared to gather up all of his supplies and put them—neatly this time—back where they belonged. Before he did, he whispered sweetly to his garden,

"You're going to be okay today. I know you can be strong while I'm gone,"

* * *

Granite's current mission was to find his friend's address. Thankfully, Sire's Hollow is not a huge town. The residents were also very forgiving when Granite knocked on the wrong houses numerous times, unlike the ponies in the various cities he's had to travel to for work.

It wasn't until a suave unicorn pointed Granite towards the house next door that he found Pencil's address. As he walked up, his ears folded slightly and his face struggled to create a normal expression. Despite knowing each other for years, Granite still felt nervous speaking to her. The main factor, he decided, is that he had opened up to Pencil so much over the years that Thorns had taken a particularly strong disliking to her.

Granite eventually gained the courage to knock on the door once he pushed his nerves to the back of his mind. He tapped his hoof a bit and waited. Gradually, the door began to creak open.

"Granite! Hi! Did you finally unpack?" Pencil said, smirking at the last part.

"Yes I unpacked!" Granite cried playfully.

"Good, cause I wanna see the house!"

"You can see it when you give me your address. I had to ask all around to get here,"

"Oh...yeah, right. Sorry about that. This is the first time we've hung out somewhere that isn't public, so that never occurred to me,"

"But now we're _both_ independent adults! Took me long enough!"

"You had your reasons, and you're only twenty-two! Hey, since we're talking about houses, why don't you come in and see mine?"

"Sounds great!"

Pencil Pouch opened the door wide enough to let Granite in then locked it behind them with her magic.

"Here we are!" Pencil exclaimed, waving her hoof around for effect.

Granite pivoted his head, immersing himself in the design of the house. The layout was rather simple at first glance, but it soon took him by surprise when he noticed all the details. Art supplies were scattered in a meticulous way and the decorations were arranged in a way that appeared minimalist from far away. At a closer glance, Granite noticed how complex the rooms of the house really were. He felt it complimented his friend's personality well. He turned and smiled at her, letting her know he admired her house.

Pencil Pouch smiled back, then led Granite Rose into the kitchen. She magically pulled out a chair for him and led him to his seat. Politely, Granite sat down, scooting around to make sure he wouldn't fall off. Pencil left and proceeded towards the kitchen island, collecting various items with her horn. Many of them began to slip out of her grasp which caused her distressed. Attentively, she set some of the things down once she rediscovered her own strength.

When she trotted back towards the dining area, she set down what she had been able to carry onto the table. She had brought with her a deck of cards, two glasses of water, and a small plate of cookies.

"Were you going to bring a whole meal over before you almost dropped everything?" Granite remarked.

Pencil blushed but kept the smile on her face. She replied hesitantly,

"Well, yes. A-actually, it was more like a ton of snacks meant to make up a meal! I-I know you don't like to eat much, so I tried not to go and cook anything,"

"That's nice of you, but I think these cookies are plenty. We can always eat the snacks tomorrow—u-unless you want them!" Granite responded.

"Oh, thank Luna, I'm starving! Hold on!" Pencil yelled as she scurried back towards the island.

Granite chuckled softly to himself. He always thought it humorous that Pencil could eat for ages just for the sake of it and he couldn't eat more than a few bites in one sitting. He supposed taking a pill each time he visited her contributed to that.

* * *

Pencil Pouch returned with an armanda of different snacks. She brought with her bags of chips, pretzels, candies, and even a couple of apples, just to have something healthy. Pencil threw all of her snacks out onto the table. She almost started digging through them when Granite said,

"How are we going to put the cards on the table?"

Pencil looked up, grabbed the snacks in a hoarding fashion, then replied,

"There, you have that whole part of the table to yourself. I'm just gonna use magic to hold the cards,"

Granite chuckled once more, then began to open the deck of cards up. He attempted to shuffle, but ended up flinging some of the cards across the room. He frantically ran across the room to pick them up as Pencil began to laugh. When Granite sat back down, he joined in the laughter, tittering at his situation. The two ponies were laughing so hard that they could scarcely breathe, but neither pony seemed to care. The two only stopped when their stomaches began to knot up. Once they were finished acting like little foals, they picked up their cards and began to play.

* * *

"So, how does it feel being independent for the first time?" Pencil asked as she hoofed her deck over to Granite to select a card.

"Well, other than Thorns being more persistent, it's been okay," Granite murmured. He quickly looked behind himself to check if Thorns was there. Sure enough, he was, staring very impatiently at him and Pencil. Granite turned back around to prevent provoking him further. When he turned around he noticed Pencil had her deck ready for him. Very slowly, he selected a card, careful not to touch Pencil by mistake. He stuck it inside of his deck quickly, trying to hide the disdain on his face upon realizing he chose a bad card.

Pencil gave a sympathetic smile in response to what he had said. She then added,

"How's your garden business going? Did you sell anything yet?"

"No, I just started setting it up. How about your art business?" Granite inquired as he held out his deck for Pencil to take her turn.

"I've sold a few things here and there. Nothing noteworthy but I'm making a decent living. Oh, do you wanna see some of it?" Pencil cried cheerfully, taking a card from Granite's deck.

"Sure!" Granite exclaimed. He frowned to himself once she wasn't looking, annoyed at the fact that he still had the bad card.

As soon as she left, fear began to trickle into Granite's subconsciousness. He fidgeted around in his seat, suddenly extremely uncomfortable with it. He anxiously jumped out of it and trotted around. He tried many different ways to calm himself down; taking deep breaths, shaking his head around, walking with slower steps. Each method was only a temporary relief from the menace whispering to him.

_**Leave this house. Hide where it's safe. Carve out your pain.**_

Granite's heart rate increased, sending adrenaline all throughout his body. His hooves began to quake, desperate for more movement. Granite thought of running but not where he would run to. It didn't matter where he ran as long as he ran away.

_I can't be here! This was such a bad mistake! She could take me away! _Granite thought.

The familiar ideology he'd had since foalhood came back to him: Other ponies were after him to put him back into a mental ward.

He would be locked up, but not to save him from himself. No, he would be imprisoned for experimentation. Doctors would extract every particle from him, erasing the essence of his physical being. Then they would attack his mind, sending a multitude of waves and electric signals through it until his memories were zapped out of existence.

Even if Granite were to escape the fate of a lab rat, those he trusted would turn on him. They would tell others of his condition. Of Thorns. Of the knives. They wouldn't see him as a victim. They would see him as a threat. To society. To the world.

The overwhelming agony of these thoughts overwhelmed Granite Rose. Suddenly his head began to spin. It spun so fast that the wall lamp above him was flashing sporadically. The lights began to blind him, so he forced his eyes shut to protect them. Granite lightly waved his left hoof around in an attempt to relocate his seat. He was unable to find it, so he collapsed on the floor. When he fell, his head made a small _thump_, causing it to hurt even more. He began to sob uncontrollably, his tears stinging his face. Granite curled into a ball, hoping the action would hide his pain and insecurity.

* * *

Pencil Pouch returned with a few canvases en tow. She hummed a little tune as she trotted back into the kitchen. She set down each piece carefully, making sure she didn't drop it all like she did with the food.

"Okay, I brought out some paintings I thought you might...Granite? Where'd you go?" Pencil asked confusedly.

She peered above the table and saw nothing at first. When she walked closer to Granite's side, she noticed a small grey heap on the floor. Worriedly, she headed over and cried,

"Granite! Granite, you okay? What happened!"

Granite couldn't bear to look Pencil in the eyes. He didn't know what to say to her right now, especially with Thorns standing over top of them.

_**Leave her house. Find a safe space. Let pain leave freely.**_

Granite wanted to follow Thorns' instructions like a sheep following its shepherd, but the wolf in front of him was too big of a problem to disregard. Ignoring the shepherd's calling, Granite cried out to the wolf.

"P-Pencil, please don't take me away! Please, please don't take me away! I don't wanna go back!"

Pencil merely shushed him and cradled him in her arms.

"Shhh, it's okay, it's okay Granite. I won't take you away, I promise. Shh,"

Granite continued to sob and shake. Part of him wanted to wriggle out of her embrace, but another part found it comforting. Granite tried to repress his sobs but found himself lapsing into choking fits. Steadily, he fought to recapture his breath and let warm tears stream down his face and onto his hooves. Pencil lightly patted him on the head as he continued to cry. She held him for a while as he slowly began to compose himself. Faintly, Granite looked up at Pencil and saw a caring friend, not a harsh interrogator. She wasn't here to expose him. Perhaps, Pencil was the shepherd and Thorns was the wolf. Sometimes he couldn't tell.

* * *

Granite Rose pushed himself up once he was finished and did his best to wipe his face off. He hid himself off to the side out of embarrassment. He didn't want Pencil Pouch or Thorns to see him in this state anymore. He began to walk out when Pencil interjected,

"Granite, wait! What happened? What did Thorns say?"

"Shh! He's right there!" Granite hissed. He pointed to the far end of the table indicating where Thorns was, then remembered Pencil couldn't see him. Sheepishly, he put his hoof down and glanced away from Thorns' direction.

"Sorry! Well, if it's gonna bother you, I won't make you talk about him. But don't be scared to talk to me, okay? I-I'm just worried. Your episodes haven't been this bad for a long time," Pencil expressed with a concerned look drawn upon her face.

"I know. He's been acting stranger than normal ever since I moved out," Granite figured.

"I'm sorry. Maybe it's because of me, too. I'm a threat to him since I'm your best friend," Pencil replied guiltily.

"That's not your fault. M-Maybe it's just—Granite let out a loud sigh—just me. I'm sorry you had to see me like this. I really tried to get rid of him. I took a pill right before I came here!"

"No, no, it's okay! I know you really tried, you always do! You should probably get home and rest, though. Give your head a rest," Pencil comforted.

"Okay, I will." Granite agreed. He had nearly made it out the door but stopped short. He turned around and said,

"Bye, Penc! See you next week?"

"Sure!" Pencil said, smiling.

With that, Granite opened the front door and trotted back home, making sure to get directions as he left the neighborhood.

* * *

He arrived back home just in time to give his plants one last watering session before he turned in for the night. He went around the back to grab all of his supplies. Granite returned with his tools and began watering each flower, gently stroking each one as he did so.

When every flower was taken care of, he spoke to them collectively.

"I hope you all had an easier day than I had," he spoke sweetly as he headed inside the house.

Granite rummaged around the kitchen for anything he could make a small meal with. He was in the mood for a sandwich, so he gathered a few vegetables and a loaf of bread. He wasn't sure which type of sandwich to make yet, so he decided to get the rest of the materials out while he thought of what to make. He trotted over to a drawer near his sink and opened it, revealing a vast array of kitchen knives.

Granite felt a strong chill go down his spine. He was extremely afraid of knives ever since his 'incident' as a child. He was always afraid of what he would do with them.

He stared at them longer, thinking back to the afternoon. As he was thinking, Thorns stood there with him with a curious look on his face. He craned his neck around Granite as much as he could to get a better look at what Granite was doing. Granite grumbled under his breath. If Thorns was going to be as bad tomorrow as he was today, Granite would definitely need an 'alternate method' to get rid of him. It was only going to happen once, it wouldn't-

_Slam!_

"No, _no_!" Granite screamed.

Granite slammed the knife drawer shut with full force. If there was going to be any sort of 'alternate method', it would _not_ be with the contents of that drawer! Allowing such a sick thought to enter his mind made him mad. Angrily, Granite stomped upstairs to his room to sleep, ignoring what would have been his dinner sprawled out on the counter.


	3. Safety Measures

Granite was starving when he woke up.

"I can't believe I went all day yesterday without eating anything!" he exclaimed.

Honestly, he knew skipping a day's worth of meals wasn't so bad as far as nutrition went. What he was really worried about is how a slip up like that could affect him long term. If he forgot one day, how could he trust himself to remember the next? He'd shrivel up like an unwatered flower out in the heat if he wasn't careful.

Granite knew worrying over such things was unhealthy for him, but he had no choice. It was his only line of defense against Thorns when a pill couldn't stall him. Thorns behaved like a trip wire. If Granite were to set him off, even if it was in the smallest way, the outcome would always be devastating. Something as simple as forgetting to eat could mean Granite was losing control.

Granite sprung up from his mattress and scurried to the kitchen. He poured himself a small bowl of cereal and grabbed an apple from the fridge. He wanted to slice it into the cereal, despite how risky it was.

_Why do I even have kitchen knives if I never get to use them?_ Granite pondered.

**_Close the curtains. Pull out a knife. Let red sift through you. _**Thorns indicated.

Granite let out a small sigh. Resisting the use of a knife was almost worse than actually using one. Resistance provoked a stronger temptation.

"Let's just get this over with," he said reluctantly, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. He let out a quiet growl in annoyance. Slowly but firmly, Granite slid the drawer open containing the knives.

He plucked a small one out and set it on the counter. He then bent down to the bottom cabinet to retrieve a small wooden cutting board. He set it on top of the counter along with the knife. He then grabbed the apple and set in in the middle of the cutting board. Once everything was prepped, Granite took a long, deep breath before carrying out his task.

He gripped the apple with his right hoof to steady it and grabbed the small knife with his left hoof. He dragged the knife across the counter, scraping the hardwood surface. Granite worried dragging it any further would scratch the surface, so he lifted it a couple of centimeters higher and brought it closer to himself. Eventually, the blades touched the apple and Granite started slicing.

Granite glanced back at Thorns several times, watching him to see if he would respond to the situation. Thorns remained at a perfect standstill during each new apple slice. The silence made Granite feel threatened, causing him to turn back so frequently that he started turning while chopping the apple. Once while he was not looking he nearly sliced into his right hoof.

Sweat began to trickle down Granite's forehead as he finished chopping the last of the apple. The sweat dripped down towards his hooves, slowing the cutting process. He would not let that stop him, however. He became hyper focused on the apple and did not turn around. He could see Thorns' eyes glowing with a greater intensity through his peripherals, but did not stop to observe them. He had a task to complete and he was going to finish it.

Thankfully, after one last motion, the apple was completely sliced. Granite scooped up the apple slices and arranged them precisely into his cereal, creating a ring inside the bowl. Happy with the results, Granite took a moment to breathe then set himself down on his dining chair.

* * *

Granite finished his breakfast and stared out the window in a daze. He let his mind wander into a state of nothingness whilst his eyes focused on the events outside. For a brief moment, he was at peace. The soothing sound of the wind followed by the soft rustling of leaves rushed through Granite's ears, filling them with serenity. The wavy green grass covering the lawn and the intricately rough textures of the trees gave his mind focus and clarity. Observing the outlines of nature's work filled the gaps in his mind with solitary enrichment.

He looked down at his Cutie Mark, a simple red rose, and was reminded of one of his favorite memories: his first time gardening. He smiled as he began to reminisce.

* * *

Granite had finally come home. There were flowers outside and a field of soil. The air smelled pleasant, almost sweet. Granite's mom said the flowers were his, and he got to plant them. When he picked them up he could see the colors streaming from the petals. Red, yellow, and white. They were just as lovely as the flowers' lively green stems. As Granite planted them, he could feel the smooth and soft soil beneath his hooves. He gently watered the flowers, noticing the soft spray of water sounded like raindrops falling.

He stepped back, admiring his work. He felt proud of taking care of such small, delicate things. The next thing he knew, his flank had emitted a blinding light. His Cutie Mark had appeared, a simple red rose shining proudly.

Granite discovered his talent. His parents danced and cheered enthusiastically. He could just taste the vegetable fritters he was about to eat as his parents proposed a celebratory dinner.

* * *

The memory reminded Granite Rose that he needed to go over his list of clients and set up his outdoor shop. The shop was something new to him, but the clients he had had for two years, so it was important to prioritize them first.

Granite got up and deposited his bowl into the sink, along with the knife. He exited the kitchen and headed towards the small closet in his living room.

Granite turned the closet's door handle and pulled it slowly towards himself, backing up as he did. He stood up and reached over a high shelf. He patted the shelf until he located a medium-sized folder. He trotted back towards the kitchen, setting it down. Methodically, he took out each individual file and studied them carefully.

Granite reviewed all of his clients and saw that he was needed in Canterlot in two weeks and Fillydelphia in three weeks. The trips were not for a while so they gave Granite time to both visit Pencil on occasion and focus on his small flower business.

"Got the trips in my calendar, now I just need to set up my shop!" Granite said to himself.

* * *

Before he began sales, Granite delicately planted each flower into their respective rectangular pots. He arranged the pots in a 3x3 pattern just below a wooden sign that read:

_Stone Cut Garden_

_Flowers— 2 bits per stem_

_Bouquets— 15 bits_

Satisfied with the setup, Granite looked out past the horizon for customers.

_**Go back inside. Keep yourself hidden. Use the knife. **_Thorns convicted in a more explicit tone than normal.

You're _not the pony I wanted to see_ Granite mentally retorted.

* * *

A week had passed, and Granite had made a considerable amount of money. He had also earned a new client during a run-in with a tourist from Dodge Junction. Granite couldn't help but smile at the outcomes. His job was not only giving him fulfillment, it was proving to be successful, too. He was also proving to his parents that he was making good use of his independence.

"I gotta tell Pencil about this! She's gonna love hearing about this! I should write about it to my parents too now that I think about it..." Granite Rose exclaimed.

_**Run inside. Lock the doors. Rip through your hide.**_ Thorns demanded, lacing his words with intolerance.

Granite shuddered at his commands. He wasn't usually this...direct. He would always suggest cutting in a delicate manner, not through force. It was like a parent telling their child to clean their room. They had to do it for the parent's sake rather than the child's, and if they disobeyed, they would be punished. What Granite could possibly be in trouble for, he had no idea.

"Am I in trouble, Thorns?" he hesitantly asked.

The word "her" echoed through Granite's mind. He looked down and sighed, knowing Thorns meant Pencil Pouch. He couldn't help talking to her—they had been friends since their foalhood.

"I won't talk about you to her this time," Granite offered, hoping that would put Thorns at ease.

Thorns nodded slightly. Granite nearly jumped out of surprise, not expecting such a quick agreement. His surprise was short-lived, however, once he noticed Thorns' head turned towards the kitchen.

Granite knew exactly what he was looking at. All he could do was plead with Thorns, emphasizing his desperation with big eyes and a small frown. Thorns responded with an annoyed but calm expression.

The word "talk" reverberated through Granite's brain. Granite hated the idea of continual conversation with him, but it was manageable. If Thorns was going to keep tabs on Granite, Granite might as well keep tabs on Thorns.

"Alright, we'll talk. I'll be careful when I see Pencil," Granite agreed.

* * *

A light knock sounded at the end of the hall. Pencil Pouch smiled, set down her art materials she was using, and answered the door. She was met with the familiar kind face of a certain grey pony.

"Hi, Granite!" she exclaimed.

"Hi, Pencil. I brought you some flowers. I thought you'd like to draw them," Granite replied.

"Aww, thanks! Wow, they're really pretty!" she beamed.

Pencil gave the bouquet a closer look and marveled over the colorful array of tulips and lilies arranged in groups. She adored the intricate speckles on the insides of the petals and the fine vein lines around the stems. Pencil was going to have a lot of fun drawing these.

The flowers reminded Pencil of something she planned to ask Granite. Snapping herself out of her trance, she asked,

"So, how's your garden business going?"

"I'll tell you when we get inside," Granite replied, gesturing towards the living room.

"Okay!" Pencil chirped.

* * *

"Wow, that's great! You're getting business already!" Pencil cheered.

"Yeah! I'm really excited about my new clients, too! It's funny to say, but I like to travel," Granite replied.

"I wouldn't blame you for liking that. There's really not that much to do here in Sire's Hollow," Pencil stated bluntly.

"Yeah," Granite murmured, staring off into the distance. He took the opportunity to look around for Thorns, who was standing behind the couch Granite and Pencil were sitting on. Granite switched his gaze from Pencil to Thorns rapidly, keeping an eye on them both.

Thorns had tilted his head in Pencil's direction, staring scrutinizingly. Granite grew extremely uncomfortable the longer he stared.

_Don't!_ he pleaded mentally, hoping Thorns would stop freaking him out.

"What's wrong?" Pencil asked with a concerned look on her face. Granite snapped back into reality, focusing on the mare in front of him.

"I'm okay," Granite replied, hoping his answer was convincing.

Pencil must have realized what was going on because she had only nodded sympathetically. Granite relaxed, feeling very grateful for a friend who was so understanding. She wasn't going to exploit him.

Thorns, by the way he was now looking at Granite, seemed unconvinced. Knowing he would have to do this sooner or later, Granite transmitted,

_I won't tell her anything. She doesn't even know we're doing this_

The word "proof" came back in reply. Granite took a shaky breath, his discomfort increasing. Apprehensively, he responded,

_What is there to prove? You know she can't even see you let alone understand our conversations_

Thorns barely titled his head in an attempt to point out Pencil Pouch. Granite comprehended that he wanted him to watch her for anything suspicious. It could be the way she talked or even the way she looked at Granite. Anything even a tiny bit disconcerting could mean she knew more than she was letting on.

As Granite observed her, Pencil's irises began to shrink drastically. She lurched back and scooted back from her original position on the couch. Granite could not fathom why she was acting so strange, so he continued to examine her.

"What?" she shrieked. "Why are you doing that? Please stop!"

Granite jumped at the level of fear arising from his friend. She had never reacted in such a way before. Perhaps he had made it too obvious that he was watching her. Granite felt immediately shameful.

"I-I was just listening to what you had to say," he lied.

Pencil seemed satisfied with that answer, although her concern had not faded completely. She kept her worries concealed, knowing how dangerous they could be in this type of situation. Pencil sat upright and began talking, hoping to continue a normal conversation.

"So, um, I heard the town committee is planning on building a shopping mall in the center of town. Did you know about that?"

"I think I heard about it,"

"Yeah, uh, it's going to be like those 'big city' malls, but with a historical twist,"

"How are they going to do that?"

"Oh, well, it'll be like a normal mall but with small 'museum stores',"

"That's good, trying to stick to their roots. Reminds me of my hometown,"

"How are your parents, by the way? Are they taking the whole 'moving out' thing well?"

"They're proud that I was able to move out and be successful. How is your family?"

"They're doing alright. I miss my sister, but sometimes we write to each other. She told me she's working for an arcade programming company! It's really cool!"

"That's neat,"

Pencil felt obligated to mention one last thing, but she decided to hold it back. A pit grew at the bottom of her stomach. She really wanted to know how Granite was feeling—truly feeling—but she didn't have it in her to ask. She did not want Granite to have an episode again, not after he tried so hard to prevent the last one.

Granite saw a sudden shift in Pencil's behavior. She had gone from chatty and happy to quiet and anxious. Was something wrong?

_**Escape this house. Leave no trace. Resurrect your wounds.**_ Thorns imposed.

_Just give me one more second, please!_ he pleaded with Thorns.

Thorns had made up his mind. His scowl made it clear he felt Granite had been over at Pencil's house long enough.

"Uh...bye, Pencil! I-I need to get b-back to the house! It's g-getting late!" Granite stuttered, straining to keep the fear out of his voice.

With a forlorn nod, Pencil replied,

"Sure, of course. Goodnight! See you next week!"

"...See you!" Granite responded. Hanging out with Pencil was getting increasingly more tricky, but perhaps if he continued to take precautions, he could convince Thorns to let him stay over again.

* * *

Pencil had her mind set on her latest commission, but was constantly diverted by thoughts of the time she spent with Granite. She knew she couldn't pry too much given how testy Thorns was, but she felt as if she had done nothing. She felt helpless, like what she was doing, despite doing what her friend often suggested, was just not enough.

_How is pretending I don't notice anything helping him? He could be going through something really horrible right now and I'm just letting it happen!_ Pencil thought in frustration. Pencil's inner anger projected into her outer expressions, causing her to fling the pen she was using across the room. She was embarrassed over her childish behavior but decided to let it go seeing as she had more pressing issues to worry about.

"If I want to help Granite, I can't be scared to talk to him. I won't let him face Thorns by himself," Pencil declared with a newfound determination in her voice.

She began with a letter.

* * *

Granite, after putting what was left of his gardening tools away, plopped himself on his dining chair and let out a tired sigh. He was mentally exhausted. He was supposed to calculate his profits tonight, but in the state he was in, he would just have to do it in the morning.

_**Get up. Find a knife. Expose your flesh.**_ Thorns commanded, urging Granite to find the strength to get up and complete the task.

Granite was admittedly grateful for the push Thorns gave him, just not eager to go through with malicious plans. Seeing as he had no choice in the matter anyways, Granite got up and trudged towards the kitchen sink, shaking the fatigue from his body. When he arrived, he felt as if he had teleported, the memory of walking towards the kitchen completely faded.

Looking down, he noticed a familiar utensil lying lazily in the middle of the sink, unwashed. Granite could still make out small apple pieces in the blades.

Reaching towards the faucet, he turned the knob to the right clockwise, letting a soft stream of cold water dowse the utensil's exterior. He watched as the small apple fragments slid down the drain along with a thin stream of juice. The cleanliness of the blade gave Granite a sense of clarity and purity. If this knife could so easily have a fresh start, he, too, could have one as soon as he had a good night's sleep.

_**Take the knife. Isolate yourself. Sever pain from your body.**_ Thorns instructed.

Granite knew he wouldn't make it out of this so easily. Thorns had a grip on him and he wouldn't let go for anything. Granite knew he could not resist the pull, no matter how hard he tugged. Granite took in a sharp gulp, regretting what he was about to say.

"If I take this with me, will you leave me alone afterwards?" he muttered.

Thorns' faced softened. Granite could only interpret this as a yes. Tenderly, he reached into the sink and took out the knife. He cradled it so as not to poke himself with the blade. He brought it carefully with him across the kitchen, making his ways towards his room.

Once he was there, he tightened his grip on the knife's handle. He had to be extra careful with it to ensure he wouldn't drop it. He lowered the knife, going slower and slower the closer he got to his nightstand. When it had finally reached the nightstand, he set the knife down next to his bottle of pills.

"There. This will be here with me," Granite reassured Thorns.

The knife brought no comfort to Granite at all, but it made Thorns feel trusted.

"No promises," Granite told Thorns.

_**Grab the knife. Lock yourself up. Let pain—**_

"_Goodnight_, Thorns!" Granite yelled before hastily shutting his lights off. He crawled into bed and buried his face in his covers as quickly as he could. He had had enough of that demon for one day.


	4. Temporary Solution

Granite held, in his left hoof, the knife he laid out last night and in his right, his medication. He fumbled with them both, weighing their individual consequences. One was obviously more positive than the other, but both solutions, in reality, were only temporary. Either choice would eventually lead back to Thorns.

_Squeak!_

Granite's ears twitched at the sudden noise from outside, distracting him from the objects. He went out to investigate the noise, trotting cautiously in case somepony was there. He cracked open the front door, revealing not a single pony nor creature nearby. Granite looked around bemusedly for a moment, searching for the sound's origin. He soon discovered it came from his mailbox, seeing that the lid wasn't shut all the way. Shaking his head stupidly, Granite let out a relieved chuckle and reached into the mailbox to retrieve his mail. Once he got what he needed, he slipped inside and shut the door behind him.

The only item that was in the mailbox was a letter. The envelope was sealed neatly, but the letter itself was worn and scratched as if it had been redrafted dozens of times. It read:

_Hey, Granite!_

_I can tell something's going on and I'm worried. I think it would be good if you talked about it, even if you only shared a little information. I don't wanna pressure you, so you only say what you want to. We can go somewhere besides each other's houses if that helps._

_How about we go out for smoothies? If you have any other ideas on where to go, feel free to share them. That was just my idea._

_\- Pencil Pouch_

Granite smiled. Despite all that he was going through and despite the paranoia he felt creeping up to the surface, he deeply appreciated what Pencil was trying to do. He felt he just had to take her up on her offer.

"Maybe she could help me. M-Maybe I could finally—"

_**Stay at home. Lie down somewhere. Let red free your mind.**_ Thorns interrupted calmly, speaking as if Granite was a houseguest.

Granite was torn. He wanted to follow Pencil's advice but felt beckoned by Thorns like a child being called to supper. Unenthusiastically, Granite went back to the bathroom, knowing Thorns would expect him there.

He sat himself down to look at the objects again. After being removed from the objects for a while, his mind had the clarity it lacked previously. He held the objects with more certainty this time, knowing full well what to do with them. Immediately, he chose one item and set the other gently on the bathroom counter.

"I can keep both of them happy this way," Granite thought aloud.

Granite was ready to use his item, but found himself short of breath before he could start. He had selected the knife. He wasn't ready to use it. He couldn't use it, not after his arm began to tingle all over, sensing the blade like a metal detector. The memories of the past began to flood again, much more rapid than before. It was like a thousand images were being shown to him all at once.

Granite grasped at the counter desperately, trying to cling onto something real. The cold tile brought him back to reality, slowing his rapid breathing into longer, calmer breaths. He ran a hoof through his mane, clasping at the thick strands all covered in sweat. Once he was fully able to calm down, Granite sat up and began compromising with himself.

_J-Just don't do it there. Do it somewhere else and do it smaller_ Granite instructed himself.

Steadying the blade, Granite pointed the knife just below his right shoulder. Targeting the spot he wanted, he briskly swiped the blade across. Examining it, Granite was worried he would have to try again, but in a few short seconds, blood began to flow. He sensed Thorns' presence, watching and wavering. Looking up, Granite saw what could only be described as pride on Thorns' face. His smile was soft and sweet but his eyes were fierce and hungry.

"This isn't bad. It was small and it was enough for him. It'll be okay!" Granite tried to tell himself. He curled himself up in the fetal position as the blood began to drip down the side of his arm. He buried his head in his forelegs, waiting in anguish for the wound to clot.

* * *

Before the afternoon began, Granite tended to his garden out front to prepare each blossom for the day's sales. He gathered his supplies and headed to the middle of the garden first, which was the spot designated for flowers meant to be sold right away. He began with the routine watering and nurturing of the plants. He took the watering can over to each flower patch and showered them, the flowers swaying appreciatively. Once each flower was covered in droplets, Granite patrolled in rehearsed circles through the soil, checking each row for any imperfections. A few of the stems needed a light trimming, he noticed.

Deep down, Granite always hated this part of gardening. It made him feel like a flower dentist. However, he knew that it was better to make his flowers momentarily uncomfortable in exchange for a perdurable well-being. Despondently, Granite took to clipping the bedraggled blossoms, softly shushing them as they cried out in barely-audible frequencies. A strong aura of fear surrounded the flower bed but was soon settled as the _snap_ of the pliers grew silent.

"I know you guys don't like getting trimmed, but doesn't it feel so much better when it's done? Alright, if everyone else can cooperate, this won't take long at all!" he said encouragingly to the rest of the garden.

* * *

Pencil had arrived at Granite's house just moments after he finished closing up shop. Granite figured she would show up here since her schedule was a lot more flexible. She seemed cheerful, but Granite could see the pity in her eyes, even from the distance she was at. He covered up the scratch on his shoulder, feeling immediately ashamed for creating it. If she were to see it, Granite knew the little cheer she had in her disposition would fade. As Pencil reached the front of the flower stand, Granite did his best not to look troubled. He gave his friend a kind smile and asked,

"Hi, Pencil. So, are you ready to go?"

"Yeah! And don't worry about money, I'll pay for everything!"

"Thanks,"

The two ponies sauntered off towards the smoothie stand, staring hopefully across the horizon.

* * *

Pencil thanked the smoothie mare, gave her a decent tip, then sat down at the table Granite had picked out. She took a brief moment to get comfortable on her seat before she started drinking her orange smoothie. Both her and Granite agreed orange was an odd choice, especially compared to Granite's strawberry drink, but Pencil still thought it was delicious.

The two sat quietly for a moment, slowly sipping on their smoothies. They took pauses every now and then to avoid brain freeze, but other than that, they didn't look up from their cups. The awkward silence hung heavily around them, souring the pleasant atmosphere of the shopping district. It wasn't until their smoothies were nearly finished that somepony broke the silence.

"Why has moving out made everything so difficult?" Granite huffed. "I know part of it's being alone, but it's not like I haven't been alone before!"

"Maybe you're just stressed about managing all your new expectations," Pencil reasoned. "I think you're afraid of messing up and having to move back in with your parents. You haven't messed up, though! From what I've seen, you've been handling things pretty well, especially with your business,"

"Hmm, that's something to consider. I still can't understand why I'm having more 'issues' than normal, though,"

"Have you been taking your medicine?" Pencil hoped the question didn't sound bossy.

"Yeah! Too much of it, actually. I'm scared I'm gonna overdose on accident one day. I feel like I need to take it _all the time_. It's like no matter how often I take it, it doesn't help much,"

"Maybe you just need a stronger dose,"

"Yeah, I guess I can ask about that,"

"Uh, so, is there a-anything else going on? Anything else I can h-help with?" Pencil tapped her hooves together timidly as she waited for Granite to respond.

Granite's immediate reaction was to touch the shoulder he had sliced into earlier. He so badly wanted to push back the curtain of soft fur and reveal the garish flesh beneath. Exposing it, however, would only bring Thorns back with his scornful, penetrating eyes. Granite couldn't bare to look into them again, not if he was going to disappoint. Instead, he told Pencil,

"No...everything's just been...tough. I just need to find some relief,"

"Well, uh, i-if you wanna get your mind off stuff, we can go do something else!"

"How about we take a walk through town?"

"Sure!"

* * *

The sun was setting on Sire's Hollow, emanating a warm orange glow across the buildings and everything surrounding them. The path was blanketed in soft, cool shadows that stretched across the trail. Granite felt more secure out here than he did at the shop. The air was far less dense and occupied. He looked over at Pencil, who was currently detangling the ends of her mane with her magic. He couldn't tell if her mane was really bothering her that much or she was just stalling conversation. All Granite could really comprehend is that she wasn't going to speak until he did.

Granite pondered for a moment, unsure of what to say. Millions of thoughts came to his head yet none could translate into words. Granite knew, though, that if he said nothing at all, he would cause his friend a lot of worry. He looked around a moment for something to talk about, eventually finding it within his surroundings.

"It feels so much better outside than at the shop. Easier to breath, easier to, uh, think..." Granite spoke.

Pencil nodded, indicating that she was listening. Noticing this, Granite continued.

"I-I've just felt so much more...intense than I did before I moved out. It's like now that I'm isolated with Thorns, he's had more time to, um, 'connect' with me. He's noticed how stressed I've been lately, too," Granite explained.

"What've you been all stressed about?" Pencil asked.

"I-I don't know, uh...doing more on my own, how my parents are handling everything, things like that,"

"That's normal, I think,"

"It _would_ be normal if he didn't turn my normal thoughts into stressful ones, too,"

"I'm sorry,"

"It's nothing you need to worry about,"

"We wouldn't be out here if I wasn't a little worried about you," Pencil winked.

"That's true. Well, I guess all I can say is this: everything feels off. Staying home feels odd, going out feels off, really doing anything now feels off! I'm worried all the time that Thorns is gonna make me think or do something awful. And the more I worry about him, the more he shows up! It's like I'm just...stuck!"

Granite soon felt the weight of his previously suppressed emotions. He had to stop in his tracks for a moment as he was beginning to quiver. He shut his eyes tightly, suppressing the urge to cry. He was not going to break down in front of Pencil again.

Pencil had stopped as well once she no longer heard the soft rustling of Granite's hooves through the grass. She peered over her shoulder and noticed something was wrong with her friend. Tentatively, she walked up to him to gauge what was bothering him. Pencil felt the need to say something, but could not think of anything useful. All she could do was watch as Granite sobbed under his breath. The longer he cried, the worse Pencil felt about the situation. She was about to finally overcome her shyness and speak to him, but Granite's fit of sorrow had ceased. Pencil would have felt relieved had it not been for the weird expression that appeared on his face. It was like something had just dawned on him.

Granite's ears flickered towards the back of the trail. He could sense Thorns' presence though he was not yet visible. Granite couldn't hold him back for much longer. It was time for him to leave.

"I think I'm ready to head back, how about you?" Granite suggested.

"Okay," Pencil said, her voice cracking.

"I'm sorry, Pencil, this was stupid—"

"Granite, it was not stupid!" she snapped. Granite jumped at how frustrated she sounded. "Coming out here had to have helped you a little bit! You were a lot more open to me than last time,"

"I was?" Granite asked, bewildered.

"Yeah! Give yourself some credit!"

"Hehe, okay! Alright, I guess I could try that!"

Granite strode towards the buildings that were mere silhouettes now that the moon was beginning to replace the sun. If he had time, he would have gazed at Luna's sky longer, but as much as he wanted to continue enjoying the scenery, he had an obligation to fulfill. He had to act quickly unless he wished to suffer the consequences.

"Hey!" Pencil exclaimed, pulling Granite to the side. Though resistant at first, he stopped trying to break free once he saw Pencil's friendly gaze.

"First, slow down a bit! You're going too fast!" she huffed. "Second...whenever you wanna hang out again, just let me know. We don't have to talk about stuff, we can just do friend things,"

Granite smiled at her. It was sweet that no matter how tricky their friendship could get, she still wanted to spend time with him.

"I'll get back to you on the second thing," he replied.

With that, he and Pencil continued their journeys back home. Granite had slowed down to match Pencil's pace, but stayed on his invisible course. He knew not where he was going nor did he understand the involuntary movements of his hooves. However, he knew his body and mind were coincided, so he would not get lost.

* * *

Pencil believed she had made progress with her friend but was still very concerned about him. She could tell having the chance to talk really helped, but the worry of something bigger occurring behind the scenes gnawed at her. By the way Granite was looking at her today, he was not just stressed out: he was terrified.

_How big is this problem? I know he's worried about all the new changes in his life, but this is going too far. What's he really dealing with?_ she thought.

Pencil spun a few strands of her curls, unraveling them in the process. She clamped and unclamped her jaw furiously. She spun in semicircles in her desk chair, hoping at least one of these bad habits would settle her nerves. Nothing worked. If Pencil was going to sleep tonight, she would have to take action again. She already sent a letter, so she would have to think of something else.

Pencil doodled at her desk for a while as she came up with ideas. She drew a mishmash of different things she had seen throughout the day. Saddlebags, insects, flowers, fruits..._flowers!_ Sliding the page she was using away, Pencil grabbed a new one and located the bouquet Granite had given her. She had placed it on her windowsill for them to get some sun, waiting feverishly for a chance to draw the flowers. Now she finally had a chance to do so!

Pencil stroked the page with sketch marks, then filled in the line work with the most vibrant colors she owned. The petals popped off the page as if the real ones just fell on top of it and the stems were as green and crisp as if the plant had been recently watered. After Pencil spent much time adding to the piece and making edits, she signed the page then rolled it up in her saddlebag. If Pencil couldn't solve Granite's problems directly, she could at least try to uplift him.

* * *

Thankfully for Granite, his predetermined path led to his house. Unfortunately, though, it did not end until he reached the bathroom. Granite groaned upon gaining full awareness of where he was. His pills and knife still lay on the counter menacingly, awaiting further use. Thorns stood by the door, encouraging Granite to walk up to the counter with a nod of his head.

Unwillingly, Granite stepped up to the counter, leaning over it to get a better look of the objects still sitting there. The pill bottle stood off to the side of the sink and the knife lay lazily inside it. Shaking his head, Granite pulled the knife out of the sink to put it back in the kitchen.

_**Keep the knife. Stay in the bathroom. Stimulate fresh wounds.**_

Granite sucked in his breath. He knew the knife could never go back in the kitchen. It was no longer a kitchen knife. Despite this, Granite knew it at least had to be washed. He would scrub it as soon as Thorns removed himself from the doorway.

Thorns, apparently, had no intention of leaving anytime soon. Granite tried to squeeze past him, but Thorns' temperament prevented him from stepping anywhere near him or the door. It appeared that Granite was stuck in the bathroom for the night. Granite had the idea to grab his medication, but he was met with an infuriated growl before his hoof even touched the bottle. The pills were out of the question. There was still the knife of course, but Granite didn't have it in him to use it again. Instead, Granite grabbed a towel from the towel rack and hopped into the bathtub. The tub was cramped as a bed, but Granite couldn't complain. He had a toilet and running water if he needed it. Once Granite was able to block Thorns' bright irises from his view, he drifted off to sleep, dreaming about orange sunsets.


End file.
